Tag Archive: Mercedes


No free wi-fi at airports and hotels.  What’s this shit with making pay $20 a day for wi-fi in your bullshit pretentious hotel?  And I think it’s fucking criminal that neither JFK nor LaGuardia airports consistently provide free wi-fi (not you, JetBlue, we all know your terminal fucking rocks).  Airports and hotels are proper fucking ports of business.  Not just where parents who have lost the will to live are dragging their little shitbags Timmy and Tammy for a week at Disneyworld.  Timmy and Tammy are ingrates and don’t deserve wi-fi.  The rest of us, who are at airports under duress, travelling for work?  The least you bastards could do is blunt the hurt with a bit of free wi-fi.

Same shit at hotels.  Oh, you want me to pay $400 for some shitty room you painted white and hung a framed painting on the ceiling, but I’ve got to cough up another $20 so that I can send emails and post stupid Facebook updates from my room?  Dicks.

 

Paying more for gas with credit.  Why the fuck are gas stations the only establishment left on earth that can get away with charging you extra if you pay with a credit card?  No one else would fucking dare.  I buy a pack of gum at the drug store and I wanna charge it?  Same fucking price.  Even the little shitty Chinese takeout joint in my town won’t tack on superfluous charges if I wanted to charge my wonton soup.  Stop being dicks about it, gas stations.

 

“So…”  What is this verbal tic I’ve started noticing so glaringly over the past coupe of months or so?  Maybe folks have been saying it for much longer, but I’ve only just recently noticed it.  There is no fucking reason to start every sentence with that word.  “So I was watching Mad Men last night…”  “So how did you like that concert?”  “Soooo… where’re we going for dinner?”   What the fuck is that?  No, no “so”.  No fucking “so” anything.  At this point, this completely gratuitous prefix is all the signal I need to completely ignore everything that comes out of your mouth after that stupid word.  A friend recently raised it as a particularly irritating issue, and I thought I was the only one to notice this particularly grating behavior.  He lives in Vancouver.  This is a pan-continental epidemic that’s just gotta stop.  Right fucking now.

 

Bottled water.  What.  The fuck.  When the fuck did water cost more than beer?

Diaper Genies.  You can never ever get that smell outta your head.  Ever.  I’m a couple of years out from needing one in the house (for my kids, not me, you assholes), but just say “diaper genie” and that pong immediately fills my olfactory sense.  They’re a pretty awesome invention – making your own shit-filled sausages – but if they could fix the smell factor, the Diaper Genie would be greater than the iPhone 5.

 

3 Series drivers.  Why do 3 Series drivers consistently refer to their stupid little cars as “sportscars”?  Have these assholes never seen a sportscar?  How the fuck is your overpriced rear-wheeled drive Honda-equivalent a sportscar by any motherfucking stretch of the imagination.  An M3? Fine, I get that.  But none of these shitheads are driving M3s.  They’re driving little shitty 3 Series cars… and quite poorly, I might add.  Looking at the way you shitheads drive and park, you might want to chill with your delusions of grandeur there.  Your shitcart is not a sportscar.

 

Pointless rental upgrades.  I recently scored what I thought was a tasty upgrade when I rented a car in Boston.  I had booked some shitty little Chevy or what not, and when I got to the rental office, they didn’t have my car ready for me.  A bit of a Seinfeld “you-know-how-to-take-the-reservation-you-just-don’t-know-how-to-hold-the-reservation” moment.  But after a few minutes, I was told I’d been upgraded to a Mercedes.  Sweet.  Thinking it’d be some small C-class, I walk up to the lot to see a beastly, stark white GL SUV.  It’s the biggest fucking thing they made short of a tour bus.  This thing was ridiculous.  It was as big as a house, so full of driving aids I felt dumber by the minute sitting in it.  The thing had blind spot warning lights, rear camera, sensors of every sort – it was as if it was coaxing you to be as careless as you fucking want on the roads because “the car will take care of it for you.”  And it came with paddleshifts on the steering wheel.  Cool.  Except when you tug on one of the flappy paddles, it’d take about a week for the gear to engage.  What a thoroughly stupid, pointless car.

Ahhh, the thrill of holiday shopping.  Made more fun when shopping at an outlet mall.  And at the outlet mall, you will see the stupidest people on earth:

Notice the almost-all-Asian line-up outside the Burberry store.  My people are idiots sometimes.  I’ve already gone on record with my unending loathing of all things Burberry, so to see fuckwits line up for the privilege of entering the store to blow shitloads of cash on that ghastly brown plaid, it’s enough to make me want to take a baseball bat to every asshole in that line.  What a queue of douchebags.

This sight caused several minutes of gut-busting hilarity.  There were easily 50 fucktards lined up outside the Coach store.  Motherfucking Coach.  The fucking Applebee’s of bagware.  And these assholes were lined up for hours trying to get in and to buy some of that shit.  That’s like standing around waiting to order a greasy, deep-fried onion.  Oh wait, people do that at Outback restaurants, don’t they.  Fuck, people are stupid.

Welcome to 2005, stupid.  The next most hilarious line at the outlet mall: the line of 50 or so dummies stretched to the end of that building.  For fucking Uggs.  Those stupid boots that so fucking dated, Napoleon Dynamite’s moonboots were laughing at these assholes.

And speaking of assholes:

“I tiny-dicked shitbag” more like.  It took every ounce of self-restraint not to cut that convertible top open and take a shit in the driver’s seat.  Rule my steaming pile, you festering testicle.

Holiday shopping, ain’t it grand.

When I read for the first time about the idea that New Jersey wanted to host a Formula One grand prix race, I rechecked to article to see if I’d inadvertently been reading The Onion.  At first it was only within the F1 press, which most F1 fans will tell you, make up 50% of the bullshit stories on a good day.  Some time went by, then other proper news channels like the BBC, USA Today (granted, not a proper news source, more like a colorful doormat at hotel rooms), and the like started to give credence to the story.

Shit, I thought.

Then Tuesday, October 25 rolled around and the press conference happened at 2pm.  About a kabillion politicians proudly declaring a second grand prix race to be run in the U.S., to accompany the U.S. Grand Prix to be run in Austin from 2012 on.  From 2013 on, Weehawken and West New York will jointly host another F1 race.  They claim that it’ll be “challenging like Spa” and “feel like Monaco”.  Yes, it’ll be exactly like Spa and Monaco.  If both Spa-Francorchamps or Monte Carlo were built and run by Paulie Walnuts.  Because when I think “glitz and glamor of the Riviera”, I automatically think “Weehawken.”  And West New York, a town so bereft of a proper identity that it’s named after a navigational direction from a city which lays in an entirely different state.

It’ll still smell and look like New Jersey, for fuck’s sake.

The Hudson River Grand Prix.  The Lincoln Tunnel Grand Prix.  The Meadowlands Grand Prix.  The North Jersey Grand Prix.  The Smells-Like-Bad-Eggs Grand Prix.

Never have I witnessed something so horrific yet so hilarious.  Except maybe for Nancy Grace and Chaz Bono sharing the same prime time hour.  The horror… the horror.  But holy shit, that’s fucking hilarious.

Here’s why the Dirty Jersey Grand Prix is a phenomenally bad idea.

Traffic.  New York and its surrounding areas are already packed to the gills with some of the most dreadful traffic known to man.  There are a gajillion terrible vehicles on shredded roads all over in and around New York.  The last fucking thing I need is for the F1 circus to come to town and jam up the roads even more.

It’s New Jersey.  Has anyone ever looked at New Jersey and ever thought, “New Jersey, now that’s a well-run state.  I wish we could be like New Jersey.”  No one in the history of time has ever said anything that retarded.  It’s a state that is so up its own ass with bad decisions and even worse management that it damn near imploded into a black hole several short years ago.  How the fuck can anyone trust this state to properly run a grand prix?  A grand prix is a big fucking deal.  Hundreds of millions of eyeballs around the world are going to be on it.  New Jersey?!  It’s already the biggest fucking joke in the hemisphere – New Jersey, is this your attempt to become the biggest running joke of the entire universe?   Canada will not take kindly to that.

European and South American douchebags.  New York already has clueless tourists coming out if its ears.  Do we really need several thousand extra douchebags from Italy, Germany, France or Brazil fucking up this city?  “But, oooh they’ll spend lots of money here.”  No, they fucking won’t.  These shitheads will show up with backpacks and sleep in the Holland Tunnel or outside Port Authority.  They’ll eat at Sbarro then whinge about how shitty New York is.  They’ll order Bud Lights then moan about the piss-water beer.   At least when the grand prix was held in Indianapolis, the distance from the port of entry might’ve been a bit of a deterrent for some.  Now that it’s right smack in the New York area, these fuckers are going to show up by the shedloads.  The grand prix is going to held in New Jersey.  Do you think they’re going to spend any time in New Jersey other than when the racing’s taking place? Like fuck.  These assholes are going to swarm into the city like locusts.  Large, hairy, smelly locusts.  And there’s going thousands of them.  Thanks to EasyJet or any of these other budget European or South American airlines that’ll let them fly into JFK for the price of a baguette.  Fuck.  That.

Everything is going to be stupidly expensive.  And I’m speaking relative to already jacked up NYC prices.  Plus, I’m going to be locked out of every decent restaurant in the city.  Because that’s what these fuckers do when the F1 circus rolls into town.  Doesn’t matter where it is, everything becomes increases exponentially in price.  A $5 falafel from the street meat truck will now cost you $9!!  I remember paying shitloads of money for some shitty Days Inn motel room on the outskirts of Indianapolis.  On a given day, the room would’ve probably cost $30 and you’d get a can of Lysol with that.  But on race weekend… $200!  Plus an extra $20 if you wanted clean sheets!  Motherfuckers.  Same shit’s gonna happen to all my favorite food joints.  If you can even get in, that is – if they haven’t all been booked up for every manner of F1 party the week leading to the race.  Red Bull are probably going to throw 25 different parties a night for a week and I’m not invited to a single one of them.  No one’s invited unless you’re 23 and have D-cups.  Vodafone will probably buy out a corner of downtown and give rides to their VIPs in McLarens (forget it, you’re not getting in).  I won’t be able to get a table at a restaurant in Murray Hill because Force India will have locked up that whole area the whole week.

This fucking guy.  I don’t wanna be anywhere in the same zipcode as Flav.  I might contract some disease from his slimy trail of suntan oil and sleazy underhanded dealings.  Seriously: Flavio Briatore is the greasiest douchebag ever to slither his way onto a grand prix paddock.  And now that his ban from the sport is over, you can bet your ass that he’s going to make his way to this grand prix event.  Because he’d be right at home in fucking North Jersey.  I’m getting skeeved out just thinking about this fat fuck.

Here’s the thing: I don’t mind going to a grand prix, I just don’t want a grand prix to come to me.  While part of me is pleased at the prospect of being able to get into my car, pull out of my own driveway, drive down to a grand prix race for the weekend, then drive home again (amidst hours and hours of stifling traffic), and NOT need to cough up gobs of cash for shitty flights and even shittier hotels in some other city, I still think it’s a fucking terrible idea.  I’d rather pay to go to someone else’s city to watch a grand prix than to have the F1 madness fuck up my city.

I’ll believe this is really happening when I see or hear the first 18,000rpm 2.4L V8 fire up in Weehawken.  And when that happens, who’s in?  Ahhh, fuck it, I’m in.